Memories of old
by Neniel Sildurien
Summary: [Modern day AU]Memories of old that come back to life. A girl that has knowledge of things she could not have known. And the fears that come from facing one’s past. Because history has a way of repeating itself. Complete rewrite of Ilúvatar’s children.WIP
1. Elrond

Disclaimer: As always, all characters, names and places from the Lord of the Rings belong to their respective owners. I own nothing other than a couple OCs. How could I anyway?

**My unwavering thanks go to my beta-reader Anie, whose gentle prodding gave me the courage to post these new chapters.**

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**Chapter 1: Elrond**

Swift breezes that swept across barren lands, swiveled and turned around the lofty heights of the Taniquetil, carrying with them many mellow scents unique to the surroundings. Manwë Súlimo, Lord of the Breath of Arda, stood upon its edge, beautiful and terrible in all his might but with a soft expression in his deep and ancient eyes. To his side, stood Varda, Lady of the Stars, who found delight in the light that drove the evil darkness away, her beauty surpassing and completing that of her husband's.

Together they looked out into the vastness of Ea, their eyes piercing through the darkness and their ears picking up every noise that traveled in the air. But their countenance was more sorrowful than strong, for their eyes could see and ears could hear, what their hearts wished would never be.

The Maia Curunír had long ago turned against them, lured by forces of evil long gone. But, even though they counted him lost, his spirit had endured and grown strong, once again bringing destruction upon the Mortals they had left behind.

Ulmo often spoke of the mortals' troubles and pleas and Nienna had shed many tears. But the Valar dared not to set out against the stray Maia, for they remembered very well what grief their last expedition had brought on Arda. Instead, they waited and watched, hoping that Men would awaken and see themselves through the danger on their own.

But the Men of this world had long ago forgotten truths that should not have been lost. And Curunír was free to prey upon the world on his own.

Too late did they see through his latest scheme, though, both Manwë and Varda thought the time for waiting was over. They still wouldn't intervene but they were willing to ask some of Elves who had once stood up against him take on the task. Men could no longer be left to deal with a force they did not understand alone.

"Do you think we are too late?" Manwë questioned his wife.

Some of the stars on the sky shimmered in time with Varda's voice.

"I hope not and I pray we weren't wrong in our decision to leave them alone to begin with."

"It was what we thought was best for them. The terrible fate we had to bestow on Númenórë still burns brightly in my memory. Men are weak when it comes to power, they would not have lasted long should we have allowed them on these shores either. But I cannot help but feel we should have acted earlier."

Varda bestowed a light kiss on his cheek.

"We had no knowledge that Curunír had indeed survived. So then we could not have known the full extent of his plans. Such knowledge is for Eru alone, I'm afraid. But we will do what we can now. Olórin claims he knows who will be both willing and best suited for this task. He has already set out to speak with them."

"He asked to go himself, didn't he?" Manwë inquired with a small smile, and a soft autumn breeze swept past him.

"Yes he did" came Varda's reply with a smile that mirrored his own, "but he also understands why we wouldn't let anyone of our kind cross the barriers of Aman. If the conflict of Saruman and Gandalf in Middle-Earth of old was one of the major events for that Age, Curunír's confrontation with Olórin now would be detrimental for their modern world. Secrecy will have to be our ally this time."

"He has always been one of deep wisdom and we should be thankful for his aide. Did he by any chance tell you of his reasons for the ones he chose?"

Varda's smile grew wider and her eyes sparkled with mischief.

"Indeed he did not, but he mentioned they might need an ally in the hither world."

"Aah, I see. It seems that our dear Olórin may have grown too smart for his own good." Manwë's eyes with the help of his wife came to rest upon a dark-haired form among the millions that swirled under his sight on lands far away.

"Oh, can you blame him? He had grown fond of many mortals back in those days, but some will always be his favorites. Besides, I see some wisdom in his thoughts."

Manwë turned his sight back on the bright face of the beautiful Valië on his side and could not stand against the wishes of those brilliant eyes.

"Very well. I shall let Irmo know of his new assignment."

And the two powerful figures retreated from the halls of Oiolossë.

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Rid of his physical form, Irmo, Lord of Dreams among the Valar, traveled in great speed over the mortals' world. Hills and plains, seas and mountainsides quickly went by, until one of the many human cities came into sight.

The usual noise and bustling had somewhat lulled under the cover of the night, but it was still a place filled with life and a rare sight for the Vala. Like the rest of his kind, he seldom left the confines of their protected realm anymore.

And it was in the midst of this cradle of mortal lives that Irmo would find what he sought. In a tall building like the rest, in an apartment similar to most, resting in a simple bed.

The disembodied Vala hovered above the form of a young woman in her early twenties peacefully sleeping while cuddled in a heap of covers to ensure some fuzzy warmth. He watched her calm features as she lay there, caught in her own sweet transgressions of sleep. But this was soon to be changed and, regret it as he may, Irmo knew it was but a small step in a greater scheme of things.

A feathery touch upon her brow was all the girl might have registered even if she had been awake and the expression on her face changed. Gone was the peace and serenity of mere moments ago and in its place a frown was marring her features in distress, as she began to toss and turn in her sleep. And even long after the Vala had been gone, she lay there trapped in a different world of dreams.

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Olórin walked through the labyrinth of gardens where the twin sons of Elrond told him to look for their father. It was another beautiful day here on the island of Tôl Eressëa on the east of the main lands of Aman, but the beauty that surrounded him was the least in the troubled Maia's mind. Upon noticing the once powerful keeper of Vilya, strolling through a narrow path, he quickened his pace until he was walking by his side.

"Lord Olórin" the dark-haired elf acknowledged him. "What brings you here, so far from the gardens of Estë that you so prefer?"

"Work, my old friend, as always." The Maia's voice was sober. "Lady Varda herself has bid me to ask a favor of you. I bring dire news, indeed, and we need to discuss of evils we thought long-gone. I was hoping the former Lord of Imladris would be able to spare some of his precious time for me?"

Elrond laughed at his words, but it was short-lived and shallow. A traitorous feeling of warning had been awakened upon the Maia's arrival and it wasn't easy to ignore.

"My dear Olórin, it has been years beyond reckoning since last I was called that. I dare not think what kind of events could bring forth such a reference to things of the past" he said with more than just a little amount of bitterness and longing in his voice. "But time is one thing I have in more than abundance on these shores. And if you claim that Elbereth Gilthoniel herself has sent you hither, I would be more than happy to oblige. Come, I know a nice spot where we can sit and talk."

With Olórin's approval he led both of them on a smaller path that took them through the trees and rich plantlife that was so common for the luscious gardens of Tôl Eressëa until they reached a small isolated glade. Seats carved out of stone stood surrounded by the wildlife and it seemed as if they were placed there especially for the comfort of those that wished to spend time away from the eyes of many. Settling down in one of them, Elrond turned his full attention on Olórin.

"Now tell me, what kind of dire news would bring Olórin on our paths?"

The Maia sighed and began his tale.

"You were right to ponder on my choice of words for your title. This… new source of worry for the Valar comes with a long history, one that goes back to your days as Lord of Imladris."

Elrond was now staring at him, his face calm and pensive as always, but in truth more than a little intrigued, while Olórin continued.

"In fact, it concerns directly the events during the War of the Ring."

Elrond's eyes widened imperceptibly. Few dared to refer to that part of their history in the presence of the Peredhil family anymore. The loss of Arwen Undómiel had been mourned by many but, as always the case with such tragic stories, it was no more than a legend now to most while her family still ached for the lack of her presence in the Blessed Realm. Elrond and his twin sons even missed the mortal man they had adopted as family and who had stolen the heart of their daughter and sister.

"What of it then?"

It was barely there, but Olórin didn't miss the slight strain in his voice. Yes, indeed, he thought, this mission may be useful in more ways than one.

"I understand that you are well informed of all the events that took place that fateful year, including Saruman's demise."

"Yes, of course" was Elrond's simple reply.

"Saruman was slain by his follower Wormtongue after his plans to destroy the lands of the Shire had been foiled. Curunír's spirit, once freed from its physical form, tried to find its way back into the West where as a Maia he was bound to return. But the Valar, having heard of his treason, would not allow him respite. A gust of wind sent by Lord Manwë himself blew at that moment, scattering his tarnished spirit away."

Elrond nodded, struggling to deal with all those names and events that awakened memories he had long ago considered deeply buried. Olórin, on the other hand, seemed to be getting discriminately uncomfortable as his account progressed on.

"It was believed that once removed from his own kind and banished in Arda without a corporeal form, Curunír's spirit would be broken and lost, perhaps even returned to the Void from whence we came. But we were wrong. Curunír had grown too strong in the Dark Ways and his spirit was allowed to endure even when separated from the rest of his kin. In search of a new source of power, he… he began to feed on the woes of Men in order to grow strong…"

Elrond was certainly surprised. This was most likely not new knowledge and if that was so, why they never heard of it? Why had he never heard of it?

"Explain yourself Olórin."

A deep sigh preceded the Maia's next words, signifying that he wasn't exactly happy about the situation either.

"Curunír virtually fed on the mortals' pains and suffering, very much like Morgoth and Sauron before him fed on their victims' fear and despair. When he was strong enough, he even took for himself a physical form that would allow him to meddle in the affairs of that world. By that time, Gondor was gone and Rohan had ceased to exist. Men had forgotten all about our existence and even that worked to his advantage… He employs his powers for the control of the World of Men, wreaking havoc in his wake. But his latest scheming means to bring about a destruction of immense proportions. He has been allowed his share of evil for too long and needs to be stopped!"

But Elrond was hardly paying attention to his last words.

"You say Gondor was gone?" he asked instead in a tumultuous voice. He could never expect a kingdom of Men to stand for ever, Númenor was proof enough of that, but to hear the news from Olórin's mouth was disturbing nonetheless. "What of my daughter's line then?"

Olórin smiled at the distraught elf-lord.

"Your daughter's descendants are fine and well, even if there no longer is a kingdom for them to rule. And they are also the reason why you should carefully hear me out for what I am about to tell!"

Bringing his emotions back in tight reign was no new feat for Elrond. He came with many long years of experience from having to put his own troubles aside and see to the needs of many.

"Lady Varda Tintallë must have sent you here for more than just a mere appraisal of the situation. Tell me what it is you want me to do."

Olórin nodded satisfied.

"Lord Manwë himself has decided it is time to take some action. Mortals have no knowledge of Curunír's true identity and they are virtually defenseless against his plotting. We will have to intervene, but it is the lot of the Eldar to do so. It would be too destructive to unleash another battle between Ainur in the World of Men right now."

Elrond was frowning and had a disturbed expression carved across his features.

"So you mean to marshal an elven army to dispatch against the former leader of the Istári?" he asked in disbelief.

"Oh, no my friend, no, no, no!" A deep roaring laugh accompanied Olórin's words. "It will certainly not be an army we are sending!"

His tone regained its earlier soberness as he went on to explain the situation.

"Like I said before, Men have all but forgotten our existence. And while we have been enjoying the prosperity of the Blessed Realm they had to survive in a world that was not always friendly for them. They have grown suspicious of the unknown, more so than you remembered them to be and even then it was enough, while their constant battling against each other has rendered them extremely efficient when it comes to warfare. An army of elves appearing out of nowhere would instantly be considered hostile and treated as such. You would have to fight against both Saruman and the forces of Men. And I fear that even should you survive the former, you would stand little chances against the latter. No, my friend, an army would certainly not do."

Elrond was listening to him perturbed. It was hard to imagine a world where a host of Elves stood no chances against Men. Could the mortals have become such fierce warriors?

"It sounds to me like they have no need for help in defending themselves against Saruman, then. Or if even their forces are not enough, what do you expect of us, Olórin?"

"It is from their own selves that we have to protect them!" was Olórin's immediate reply. "Saruman's power is great, yes, but his greatest weapon is corruption. And it pains me to say that Men are the most vulnerable to that particular weapon. It is a rare occasion indeed but it is a fight I fear they are not equipped to fight. Either way, secrecy will be our ally. A small group of five or six may succeed where an army cannot."

If possible Elrond appeared even more perturbed.

"If what you say is true, then it is a perilous task indeed that you wish to appoint Olórin! What could so few of us do against such forces, and worse yet, against a Maia that survived the wrath of the Valar?"

Olórin raised an eyebrow and seemed to be appraising him for a moment.

"Was it not you, Lord Elrond, that sent a similarly small group into certain danger with a far more perilous task all that long time ago? And how did that turn out? I do not see how the wisdom of believing in the chances of the few has changed since then."

Elrond knew what it was the Maia was talking about. The Fellowship had turned out an immensely unexpected success. Perhaps there was some reason behind it after all.

"And I assume you wish me to be a part of this… mission?

"There is no real obligation" Olórin explained. "The choice is yours and yours alone. But I will not deny that your presence will be valuable. You are a fierce warrior and a gifted healer, you had seen generations and generations of Men walk through the Halls of your House. Your bloodline alone makes you a choice better than most."

"I am not certain of this Olórin. You say I have seen many generations of Men. And yet even I have spent more years here in the isolation of the Blessed Realm than in Middle-Earth. We have no knowledge of the world they have formed in our absence. How are we ever to find Curunír and deal with his plans? There are too many details that have not been explained…"

"All in due time, my friend, all in due time" the Maia soothed. "All I may say for now is that you will have help once you get there. There will be a mortal waiting to assist you with your plans, if you must know. Lord Manwë and Lady Varda have seen to it."

Olórin's blue eyes took on a special glint upon the mention of this 'ally' and Elrond immediately grew suspicious.

"What kind of 'ally' may that be, Olórin?"

The Maia was actually grinning with a look of mischief on his face by now.

"Oh, but that would be telling, wouldn't it?"

But upon seeing Elrond's annoyed expression, he let out a short laugh and hastened to add

"Don't worry, my friend, I will let you know before you leave. But I will have you make your choice for all the right reasons first. I must go; there are others I must also speak to. Take the time during my absence to think this through. I suggest you take the time for a long conversation with the fair Lady Celebrían. The twins will need to know of this as well. At least, that is if they wish to join, which I am sure they will. I shall be back in a few days."

"Explain it to others Olórin? I hardly understand it myself!" the elf-lord complained in a tired voice. "But I understand your need for discretion even if I do not approve of it. I will use the time wisely and will let you know of our decision upon your return."

Satisfied with the response, Olórin gave a final nod and turned around only to disappear in the surrounding plant life, leaving a very troubled elf-lord sitting alone behind.

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**A/N: **This is my second attempt at writing a story with an actual plot that is longer than a mere drabble or one-shot. My first attempt was… less than successful. In fact, this is a complete re-write of the original "Ilúvatar's children". Still, I am not that much confident about the result and if it weren't for Anie's reassurance, I wouldn't be posting yet. And, since this is still WIP, I cannot guarantee any regular updates.

So, can I count on you going easy on me?

Thanks  
Neniel


	2. Legolas

Disclaimer: As always, all characters, names and places from the Lord of the Rings belong to their respective owners. I own nothing other than a couple of OCs. How could I anyway?

**My unwavering thanks go to my beta-reader Anie, whose gentle prodding gave me the courage to post these new chapters.**

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**Chapter 2: Legolas**

The journey from Tôl Eressëa, where Lord Elrond and his family dwelt, to the wooded lands on the north of Eldamar was a long one, but infused with the powers of his own kind here in Aman Olórin was able to cover the large distance in very little time. Having even abandoned his old alias as an aged old man for the one he frequented in the lands of Valimar, Olórin practically felt like a different creature from Gandalf the Grey that roamed the forests and plains of Middle-Earth so long ago.

But he was still the same, and his clear memories of the events of the past told him that this second visit would probably be the hardest part of his task. Still, mastering his own emotions, he calmly entered the ancient forest where many of the Silvan elves had withdrawn and where Lord Oropher himself held his house.

Needing little directions to find the Halls of the Lord in question, Olórin easily made his way through the gleaming foliage and occasional flets. A large tree far ahead marked his destination. On its base and all the way up its trunk were elegant rooms and halls connected with airy stairs swaying softly in the wind in time with the tree's branches.

Although he did not feel obliged, Olórin decided it would be best to greet the king and his son first.

Upon Thranduil's arrival in Aman, the Silvan elves that had already sought refuge there had asked that he be proclaimed their king on this side of the sea as well. But when Thranduil found out that his father had been released from the Halls of Mandos many years ago, he gladly gave up the title to Oropher, claiming that his reigning days were over and that indeed the time had come for him to rest. At that time, most had treated the words of the incredibly headstrong and powerful former king with disbelief and yet Olórin knew that Thranduil's decision was the right one. Oropher had spent enough time in Aman already and was better qualified for guarding the interests of their people in these lands.

Still, he was not surprised to find Thranduil on his father's side standing next to the throne once his arrival had been announced.

"Lord Olórin" Oropher was the first to talk, "we are honored by your presence here. Long has it been since you last walked among us."

Olórin smiled and sought to return the greeting.

"And hail to you, King Oropher. Indeed, I have had little dealings with the North lately. But I am here now, should it be for good or bad."

Unlike his father, Thranduil had had to deal with Olórin as Mithrandir in the long past and even if this tall elf-like lithe creature with long dark flowing hair and fair skin looked nothing like the gnarled old wizard, he had not forgotten the Maia's mannerisms. Much like Elrond before him, he could tell something was amiss.

"What is the matter Olórin?" he went straight to the point. "Surely it cannot be ill news you are bringing since the Valar's protection has kept misfortune at bay for longer than we can remember."

Olórin eyed him for a moment. Old instincts die hard, and certainly Thranduil Oropherion had had his fair share of millennia of protecting his people in a realm surrounded by darkness, time enough to grow an uncanny instinct for realizing when something was wrong.

"And yet I am afraid that ill news it is. But it does not concern you Thranduil or your people. In fact, I was wondering if I could speak with your son."

"Legolas?" came Oropher's startled inquiry, whereas Thranduil was trying to gauge the Maia's intentions.

"What would my son have to do with the plans of the Valar?" Thranduil asked. "Has he not given up enough already?"

Olórin suppressed a sigh and landed his steady gaze squarely on Thranduil's worried face.

"I understand your apprehension for your son, Lord Thranduil, but I would not lightly ask of him what is beyond his power or what should not be his burden."

"You avoid the question Olórin" Thranduil all but growled.

"I need to ask him to take on an important task on behalf of Lord Manwë himself" Olórin raised his voice to be heard above Thranduil, "but he will be free to choose if he wishes to accept it or not. And" he interrupted Thranduil as he was ready to speak again "I am afraid I cannot reveal too much information until he has reached a decision upon his intentions. So, my Lords, if you would be so kind as to inform me where I might find him?"

Half an hour later, Olórin was making his way through a particularly thick part of the Silvan elves' forest, his eyes scanning the woods for a particular flet. Soon enough he had found it and he wasn't in the least surprised when a second later a blond elf had soundlessly landed on the forest floor beside him.

"Mithrandir!" the elf exclaimed in surprise. Olórin just smiled at the sound of his old name. (/_Grey Pilgrim_/)

"You know you do not have to call me that anymore" he put in playfully as he grasped the other's shoulders in place of a formal greeting instead.

Legolas took in the other's very bright and very blue raiment and allowed himself a small laugh.

"Indeed, you no longer are anything like the grey traveler I used to know, but I find I have grown quite used of that name."

It was true enough. No matter how different the Maia may have looked on the outside, Legolas had seen enough of those sparkling blue eyes to recognize them anywhere, eyes that reminded him of many long nights in the company of long lost friends and a sky of stars different from the one he saw now.

As if reading his thoughts, Olórin's expression softened and he offered an honest smile.

"What brings you here Mithrandir?" Legolas asked when Olórin didn't seem to be coming forth with an explanation. "Have you finally decided to pay me a visit?"

"Aaah, I am afraid you have put me to shame again, my good Elf. This is no mere visit. But if you could show the way to some more comfortable arrangements for this old Maia to rest, I will tell you all you need to know" Olórin replied, allowing himself to slip more into Gandalf's persona for a while, as a small comfort for the younger elf.

Like all the others before him, Legolas too gave him a grave look that spoke of ill premonitions before nodding and disappearing through the branches towards the talan that was barely visible above them.

"Always thought that one to be smart" the Maia muttered to himself, "but I really should talk with Manwë for these little 'tasks' of his. Even the elves of Aman are growing suspicious of my visits!"

Not two minutes later Olórin was quite comfortably sitting on an elegant chair and facing Legolas perched on one of the branches that were springing out from the trunk a few feet above the flet's floor. The Sindar and Silvan elves had retained much of their old affinity for living among the trees, a trait that always wondered their Noldor and Vanyarin relatives. Thankfully, there were more than enough forests and cities in Aman to provide a home for every single elf that had come back from Arda.

"I see you still prefer keeping to your own."

Legolas didn't seem surprised by the remark.

"I simply enjoy the harmony of living among the trees" he replied with an ease that spoke of long experience in this kind of conversations.

"And yet you do not do so in the company of your kin" Olórin persisted.

Legolas eyed him for a minute, but otherwise didn't seem surprised by that kind of persistence either.

"An elf often feels the need to rejoice in the melody of life in private. It is not rare among our kind to seek solitude here in such a protected realm."

Olórin was hard put to refrain from replying to that comment. It would not do well for his purpose to ruffle Legolas' feathers before the main subject of their discussion was even breached.

In a conversation that closely mirrored the one he had held with Elrond, Olórin proceeded to recount the information they had gathered of Saruman's return in the World of Men and the need to intervene. But much to his dismay, Legolas' face had begun to darken suspiciously when the latter point was brought forth.

"You mean to send Elves back to Middle-Earth!" he cried indignantly and even Olórin was taken back with his intense reaction.

"Yes, that is the plan."

Legolas stared at him hard.

"Would you really do something like that to them? Mithrandir, you do not know what it is you are asking!"

Olórin considered his words for a while before asking him to elaborate. He had an idea of what was about to follow, but Legolas would have to speak some things aloud before he could start pushing him for some hard decisions.

The younger elf nimbly jumped from his branch and walked to the talan's end, turning his back at the Maia.

"The edain are wonderful creatures, Mithrandir, truly they are, but we shouldn't be allowed to mingle with them anymore. Elves are gentle-hearted of nature and most of the younger ones of our kind have no notion of the meaning of loss. And yet even the long-term separation that comes from a loved one's departure for the Halls of Mandos cannot be compared with the pain of being eternally separated from a mortal's fëa that departs from the circles of this world altogether. Whomever you wish to send would be in risk of great pain."

"The mission itself is a great risk Thranduillion. Is seeing mortals again what you perceive to be the greatest peril?" Olórin gently inquired while getting up to come and stand by his side.

"It isn't supposed to be as painful as you describe it little one. The Secondborn are magnificent beings indeed. They live during their short time here on Arda with such passion that they can remind us the beauty of this world as well. In fact, I fear your kind has been away from them for too long. It is my belief that both races need each other; if you were meant to be apart Eru Ilúvatar would not have placed you on the same world together. But that is a conversation for other times. And it is not the point here. We need to do this for their protection, not our pleasure. They have been left alone and unguided far too long. Besides, I guarantee you that no elf that has not been in the company of humans before will join you in this mission."

This time, it was Legolas' turn to look taken back at the other's words.

"Join me? And what makes you think I will agree?"

"I have no way of forcing you, but I really think you should. In the end the choice is yours, of course."

When Legolas didn't seem to be responding, Olórin decided to resort to one final bit of information he had been holding back. What he would not share with Elrond before he had reached his decision, the Maia couldn't bear to withhold from Legolas, for his past was entirely different.

"There is one last thing that you should probably know. The one that has been assigned to help and guide you while you are there… is one of Elessar's heirs."

A bitter laugh was issued from Legolas.

"Aaah, yes, of course, the 'ally'… I should have known you would pull something like that. But how do you plan to do so, Mithrandir? Even you admitted that Gondor has long been forgotten and Aragorn's descendants have no knowledge of their heritage. Or has this been planned for longer that you let on?"

Olórin spoke as if having ignored the elf's sarcasm that was evident in his voice.

"Everything I told you is true. None of Aragorn's descendants know who they really are, but one of them has been chosen and Irmo is working as we speak. He uses dreams and nightly visions to re-awaken some of the knowledge of the past, especially through Aragorn's point of view since he was so tightly connected to the events in question and he had a vast knowledge of the old world."

At this point Olórin momentarily flinched before continuing.

"It has never of course been tried before, but we have no reason to believe it won't work."

Legolas snorted in disbelief.

"So you were going to use my loyalty to Aragorn and Arwen's bloodline to convince me to go back and protect this… 'heir' " he said, and was satisfied to at least have been able to make the Maia squirm with his accusing tone.

"It worked" he finally declared in defeat. "I will do as you wish. Now leave me to my solitude among the trees."

Realizing that there was no point in pushing the matter any further, Olórin indeed turned to leave. But he had hardly reached the trunk of the tree from where a slender ladder of hithlain led to the ground when Legolas' voice drifted to him.

"Do not think me selfish, Mithrandir. You weren't there, that is why it is so easy for you to speak. You weren't there when every single immortal had left those shores and I had to stay behind for the sake of bonds that were too hard to break. You weren't there when for the better part of two centuries I lived among mortals and opened my heart to them only to watch them wither and die. You weren't there when Aragorn's bright eyes were forever sealed and the man I admired the most left me behind. You weren't there when Arwen Undómiel, the Evenstar of her people, surrendered to her fate, lying on the dead hill of Cerin Amroth, reduced to a mere shell of her former self from grief. You weren't there…"

There was terrible sadness in the elf's words, but there was nothing more that Olórin could do. All there was left was a secret hope that the Maia's plans would be proved right in the end.

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**A/N:** Hopefully you'll like the new version better... Reviews are always welcome! 


	3. Haldir

Disclaimer: As always, all characters, names and places from the Lord of the Rings belong to their respective owners. I own nothing other than a couple of OCs. How could I anyway?

**My unwavering thanks go to my beta-reader Anie, whose gentle prodding gave me the courage to post these new chapters.**

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**Chapter 3: Haldir**

After leaving a very disgruntled House of Oropher behind, once Legolas informed his father and grandfather what Olórin wanted him to do, the Maia made his way to the South, where another woodland realm was bordering the lands of Tirion. The Sindar elves under the guidance of Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel dwelt there and it was Olórin's next and last stop before returning to Elrond on Tôl Eressëa.

Entering Celeborn and Galadriel's realm was certainly an experience quite different from walking under the shade of Oropher's woods. Closer in tastes with the Noldor thanks to Galadriel's influence, the elves here still lived among the trees, but their presence was easier to notice as they had grown an architecture of their own, one that allowed them to shape the living trees into their homes. And because they were closer to Eldamar's capital city, elves of Sindar, Noldor and even Vanyarin origin had gathered here in great numbers, making it look like a small city perched on the trees and built on the ground.

Walking under a canopy of shimmering leaves with hundreds of lamps and lights hidden in the branches, Olórin took his time observing the elves that passed him by bowing reverently or sending polite greetings his way. This visit was to be a less formal one since no nobility was included, but he had yet to find the elf he was looking for.

Finally a certain pair of fair-haired elves caught his attention and he quickly made his way until he was standing on their side. After all proper greetings had been exchanged, Olórin focused his attention to the ellon, whose face seemed eternally graced with a charming smile.

"My dear Rúmil, I am ever so glad to see you and your lady wife are faring so well, but the true reason behind my visit is that I wish to speak with your brother Haldir. Would you by any chance know where I might find him?"

Rúmil, the youngest of three brothers, even as a revered elf of many millennia had retained his sharp wit and easy sense of humor, so his next words hardly surprised Olórin.

"You know my brother and his ways, my Lord. He spends this part of the day on the training fields terrorizing the poor misguided younglings that are stupid enough to volunteer for his fighting lessons. Ever since we ran out of evil creatures, he decided that eager elflings barely of age can be second best to keep his boredom away!"

Olórin threw his head back and laughed with Rúmil's comment.

"Oh, come now, he cannot really be as bad as you describe him to be?" he asked once his laughter had somewhat subsided.

"Why don't you go and see for your self, my Lord?" the younger brother asked and winked, only to bow and lead the beautiful elleth he had come to call his wife away. Olórin smiled and let them go, intending to do exactly that.

The training fields were relatively easy to find. They covered a large surface, since they had to accommodate the large number of elves that lived in these woods. Warfare was now more like a luxury or a fashionable pastime rather than a way of life, but it remained quite popular among the ellyn. Even so, Haldir and his group of students were hard to miss.

In a corner quite separate from the main grounds where ellyn of all ages practiced their moves and sparred, a small gathering of young elves were sitting in a circle, their full attention granted to the figure of a broad-shouldered elf that was demonstrating a series of complicate moves with a long curved elven blade. Every now and again, the fair-haired elf would stop and explain the minor details that ensured the smooth shifting from one stance to another or answer any questions were asked. Olórin would have recognized the elf's proud figure anywhere, but the soft expression on his face as he was talking to his students or the looks of admiration that were staring back at him were somewhat of a surprise for his opinion of the once haughty Marchwarden of Lórien.

His little demonstration quickly over, Haldir left the young ones to spar with each other and practice the new moves while he walked to where Olórin was watching them, aware that the Maia had been there and waiting to talk to him for quite some time.

Another round of bowing and greetings ensued and once typicalities were out of the way, Haldir was free to satisfy his curiosity.

"Am I to assume that you are here for more than to just watch me take on some defenseless elfling with a blade, Lord Olórin?" he asked, once again the haughty marchwarden.

"Aah, your humor must be a common brotherly trait I assume… I believe Rúmil said something quite similar to me."

Haldir chuckled and his cold demeanor was gone.

"Similar humor among brothers is often commonplace, indeed. And, truth be told, I do often grow restless. A tedious affliction, I am sure, but one that is there nonetheless."

Olórin presented the elf with a bitter smile.

"And one that I fear I may be able to cure. Come, let us talk."

And talk they did. For the third time in a short span of days Olórin imparted the knowledge of Saruman's return and Manwë's decision to intervene. Only this time, the Maia was met with less questions and inhibitions and a more positive approach. Ever the soldier and one to follow orders with his own sense of duty, Haldir seemed to have but one objection.

"Lord Olórin, all you say is well and I agree with your cause, but if I may ask you one question… why have you come to me?"

Olórin seemed to find the answer evident.

"Why, for many things, of course! Your prowess in battle is a valuable skill. But you have also been gifted with a rare understanding of the languages and cultures of Men. It was part of the reason Lady Galadriel valued your services enough to ask you to become the Marchwarden of Lothlorien in the past, as it is a position that requires more than a mere understanding of the rotation of guard shifts."

Haldir knew it to be right. In the seclusion of the Golden Wood, he was one of the very few to speak the Common Tongue of Men of those times and even less to know of their customs and traditions. It was indeed partly why he had been granted a position of such responsibilities in a world surrounded by the realms of the mortals.

"I can name many more reasons if you wish, but that is not the point. Know that your being chosen has been approved by Lady Varda herself. The question is will you answer her plea?"

For the old Marchwarden of the Golden Wood who had long lived feeling useless as a warrior in times of peace, there was really no question. Haldir was not in truth fond of fighting, but the chance to be of actual service and prove his honor and worth all over again could not be easily set aside. Especially when the request for help came from the highest beings of this world themselves.

"I am always at the Lady's service. You may count on me, my Lord Olórin."

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**A/N:** Sorry for the very short chapter, but more will be coming up soon! Besides, if I didn't end it here, it wouldn't stick well with the plot… I think… oh, what the heck, just enjoy the chappie:P

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**GREEKGAL:** Since you're the first one to review on the revised version of _Ilúvatar's children_, now known as _Memories of old_, you get lots of cookies and the eternal devotion of the would-be-writer that is currently sitting in front of the monitor with a huge grin on her face… In other words, thank you for your kind words and for giving me the honour to count my stories among your favorites: )


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